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My personal files, papers, and receipts are neatly
filed away

I do not have OCD, but I sometimes wonder if it would be easier if I could have the label. I do get bothered about some things in a OCD like way. I can’t stand it when something is lost. I have to check the dominoes before and after playing to make sure all 28 are there. There are 52 cards in a deck of cards. It’s a deck not a pack. etc. etc..

It stresses me that other people don’t bother about these things as they should do. I can’t work out why they are not bothered. Things should be done properly and consistently, my way.

When I look for a particular document I need it to be in the correct file. I need it to be easily found in the file, in date order. Not that everything needs keeping, but the important stuff does.

So all my papers are neatly catalogued and filed, the kitchen crockery is neatly stacked, all with the same pattern. Knives, forks and spoons each in the correct place in the kitchen drawer. DVD’s alphabetized left to right by title (I wish).

This is because my wife does it. She is organised and neat.

I am chaotic and disorganised. My DIY equipment is in one or other of the two sheds (probably), my loft has a whole load of unused old stuff I can’t bear to part with. My clean washing is piled on the bedroom dresser, but there are no socks in my drawer. I just can’t bring myself to do the sorting out of these things. I’m stuck, because of the enormity (to me) of each apparent task.

My PC and laptop and work laptop though are each highly structured, and double backed up. I am a programmer by employment and I like my code all neat and just so. My model traction engines and coin collection are organised, but it seems mainly to be the physical aspects of my life that are disorganised. I have no idea as to why there is this difference.

For me, having a partner who is prepared to put up with, and complement my weaknesses with her strengths, is an amazing privilege.

If it were to be left to me my t-shirts and trousers would still be scrumpled up near to the overflowing wash basket.

That is why I forgive her so readily for folding my T-shirts and trousers the wrong way.